


from zero (not even one)

by indemnis



Category: K-pop, Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Non-Consensual, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 05:36:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12720690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indemnis/pseuds/indemnis
Summary: Jooheon and Kihyun started off on the wrong foot, and maybe all it takes is a fresh new start.





	from zero (not even one)

**Author's Note:**

> warning: tw for non-consensual sex between oc and ki

Jooheon forgets what it’s like to have led his life before meeting Kihyun. He supposes it had been a little bland, a little mundane.

Kihyun swept into his life in the midst of billows of tobacco smoke and copious amounts of alcohol, and Jooheon drank him in like a man stranded in a desert, took him in and allowed him to diffuse bits of him into his system.

He was intoxicating and for the first time in his 20 years of life, Jooheon looks into the details, feels things he never thought he was capable of feeling, the light thrumming of his blood in his veins roaring to action with every spike of excitement Kihyun fed him.

Kihyun brought with him a rush of adrenaline, promises of a good night out, but in his mother’s words, _a bad influence_.

Jooheon didn’t mind. He didn’t like to think of himself as a weak-minded individual who swayed whichever way the wind blew. But perhaps it is in the enticing way Kihyun utters words of persuasion with a pout in his lips, in his hyperboles and superlatives.

Jooheon dives into the deep waters without a moment of hesitation, agrees with his every opinion, smitten with his every smile.

*****

The news of Kihyun being with someone comes like a tight and searing scald from a hot iron. It stamps and burns into Jooheon’s skin, his delirious fantasies of perhaps having something with Kihyun smashed and destroyed, its pieces scattered along the path he walks, biting into the soles of his feet.

But the smile. The smile that lingered on his face when he introduced Yoon Seungjae as his boyfriend, had been blinding.

Jooheon doesn’t ever remember a time where he had seen something so bright, brighter than Kihyun himself, his eyes crinkling into crescents and his white pearly teeth small and perfect.

It mangled his heart into scraps and bits, but at least he was happy. Jooheon tries to find consolation in that, ignores the sharp stab of a javelin through his chest when Kihyun hooks his arms with his boyfriend.

 _If it makes him happy_.

Jooheon picks up smoking without the help of Kihyun. He thinks the mystifying clouds of addiction help him gain some degree of clarity. Or maybe they don’t, but he just needs a justification, and any will do.

Alcohol helps, too. Despite knowing that his liver will come to resent him in his later years, he likes the sting of a vodka shot. It reminds him a little of the exhilaration Kihyun used to inject into him, the effects making him heady and giddy, grins abound.

Between the smoking and the drinking, Jooheon keeps a lookout for Kihyun, provides nods of affirmation when Kihyun seeks for it, a shoulder to lean on when Kihyun has had a lover’s spat.

He remembers hoping that it’ll be the last time they fight, wishing that this would be the last straw, the one major argument to topple them off the edge of the cliff, just so he has a chance to come in and seize the opportunity to sneak into Kihyun’s life.

Because despite Kihyun being the tinted glasses with which he was introduced to the world, the one centre of gravity that pulls everything together, Jooheon understands that in Kihyun’s world, he is but another insignificant character.

Like all the passers-by that come and go, Jooheon rubbed shoulders with him and clung on pathetically, and Kihyun used him for the pandering he so desired, indulging himself in Jooheon’s sycophantic ways, his sweet words, his compliments.

When he looks back on his life, Jooheon realises he cannot find images that don’t have Kihyun in them, the happy or the sad times, and he realises the emptiness that echoes in him, in an existence without Kihyun. He fills it up with more columns of tobacco smoke and alcohol intoxication.

For a moment, he fools himself into thinking that it’ll be okay.

*****

Emotions, like waves, like trends that come and go, gush up and recede just as quickly. Kihyun is staring at the messages bombarded his way, Seungjae impatient and frustrated from his lack of responses and the lack of enthusiasm in his occasional replies.

Kihyun doesn’t understand himself. He’d been so happy, really envisaged a happily ever after with Seungjae. But he turned out to be like all the ones before -- didn’t hold his interest for long enough for him to stay rooted.

Maybe he was made to be a vagabond, never satisfied with one place to settle, never setting up home and living in it.

He’ll take whatever excuse he’s managed to whip up for himself for the umpteenth time.

The confrontation has and always will be his least favourite bit. Seungjae invites himself into his house without anything more than a shove, and Kihyun finds himself pinned against his front door, Seungjae’s lips on his neck.

“Stop. Please. I don’t want it.” He shifts his head to look away, unsure if it’s guilt or disgust running in him that’s making all of this so unpleasant.

He just wants Seungjae to scream and shout and maybe shed a few tears, and they’ll be on their separate ways, leading their own lives.

He doesn’t take a hint, pressing his crotch against Kihyun’s, a few whines falling from his lips. Kihyun shakes his head, doesn’t know how much clearer he needs to be.

“Seungjae. No. I don’t want to have sex.”

Seungjae pulls away, a glimmer of sadness shining through the haziness that is his fury, his jaw clenched and he hisses through gritted teeth.

“Was I just a plaything the whole time?” He asks, knitting his eyebrows together, and Kihyun can tell he’s trying very hard to not cry. Kihyun has never been good with people crying. It reminds him of how much of a jerk he is, but he’s not going to let Seungjae guilt-trip him into sorry sex.

He doesn’t want to pretend to still be in love with him, because while Kihyun is many things at once, he is not an actor. He isn’t someone that isn’t Yoo Kihyun.

“No.” The answer is short, simple, and maybe a bit startling, because Seungjae presses open-mouthed kisses harder against Kihyun’s skin, holding him in place with his stronger arms.

“No, I didn’t date you so I could fool around with you. But I’m done, and you need to stop.” Kihyun’s voice is loud, his arms still pushing at Seungjae’s chest, face scrunched together.

Seungjae’s arms come around him, a desperate and eager claw at whatever that's left of their brokenness, and Kihyun doesn’t want any of it. His arms are thinner than Seungjae’s, however, and his shoves only serve to push him away for a few centimetres for a few seconds, and then he’s back, latching onto his neck with angry kisses.

Somewhere down the road, Kihyun finds his back against the floor, his wrists tied together by Seungjae’s belt, and his trackpants being pulled down his waist.

He cries, wails, begs. _No, Seungjae, please. I don’t want this._

Kihyun didn’t know what he had expected out of his breakup with Seungjae, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t Seungjae’s fury and frustration snowballed to form a fiend, a monster who wouldn’t take words in, caving into only his fiery desires.

“No. I’m not letting you say no. You always come to me when you feel lonely. Throw yourself into my arms when you need someone. I never said no. I was happy to hold you, hug you, fuck you. Anytime you needed me, I was there.”

His voice is incoherent, a blur of hiccups and low mumbles. He pulls Kihyun’s underwear down to his ankles. Kihyun struggles.

“I tried my best to be a good boyfriend, Ki. I was everything you needed.”

Reaches for a packet from his jean pocket. Kihyun’s heart is thumping violently, his whole body shaking.

“You always come to me when you need something. Where were you when I needed you?”

He wasn’t rough, didn’t hit Kihyun, didn’t slam his skull against the floorboards. His eyes were leaking tears, sad, miserable tears, and Kihyun cries when he pushes in, though for an entirely different reason.

“You were busy being caught up with yourself. You self-centred, narcissistic piece of shit. You never saw me more than a disposable boyfriend. I knew it, and I put up with it.”

His thrusts are hard. Kihyun sobs. Seungjae matches up the aching pain he feels in his thrusts, reciprocating the favour. Kihyun falls apart as large beads of tears roll down his cheeks. _It hurts_.

Kihyun hurts because he knows he’s right. Because everything Seungjae has just said is correct, and he’s incapable of thinking outside of the bubble that consists of one person and one person only.

He doesn’t resist when Seungjae spreads his legs further. If he’d hurt Seungjae so much, maybe it’s only right to pay him back.

*****

Jooheon stares at his watch, jiggling his leg as he looks around the neighbourhood, expecting to see a tuft of silver hair appear somewhere, and is faced with disappointment with every glance he takes.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he decides to try for the fifth time, and if there’s still nothing, he’ll just go home and sulk a little.

The call rings through, and Jooheon stuffs his hands in his pockets, still keeping a lookout for the familiar face in the sea of people. It connects, but there’s silence.

“Hello? Kihyun hyung? Are you coming? I’ve been waiting for half an hour now.”

There is a quiet hum in the background, and Jooheon pulls the phone away, only to see that the call had indeed gone through.

“Hey? Hyung? Why are you not talking? You okay?” Jooheon stands up from where he was sitting, cup of latte all but forgotten, and there is very soft breathing on the other end.

“Hey.” Kihyun’s voice is small, weak, and Jooheon senses something is wrong almost immediately. His hands are shaking as he strides out of the cafe, eyes darting from left to right. “Are you okay?”

A few seconds of complete silence, and Jooheon thinks he must have hung up, when there is a sniffle, and Kihyun is taking deep breaths.

“Hey, Jooheon?”

“Hyung, are you alright?”

“Do you think I’m a selfish person?” The exhale on the other end is shaky, and Jooheon is letting his feet take him in the general direction of Kihyun’s apartment.

“What are you talking about?”

A breathy chuckle. “Do you think I’m selfish? Everything I do is for me, about me? Do you feel like I care about you? All through the years we’ve met?”

Jooheon freezes, ignoring the passers-by that shoulder him as he stops abruptly in the middle of the pavement. “Why’re you asking?” He tries to put on a more confident tone. What Kihyun doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him. He starts walking again. “You wouldn’t care about my opinion if you were really selfish, would you?”

The response is a bitter chortle, and Jooheon’s lips press together in a tight line. “I already know I am. I just wanted to know how many other people agree with me.”

Jooheon doesn’t know how much longer he can hold up his lie. How many times he can run away before finally telling Kihyun that yes, he’s the most selfish person he’s met his entire life.

Yes, I feel like I’m just an insignificant character in the drama that is your life, the protagonist, the love interest, the director, the producer, the scriptwriter are all you, and I’m just Person A that the protagonist briefly exchanged glances with during his walk in the park.

“Where are you, hyung?” An attempt at a topic diversion, and Kihyun’s breathing is almost laboured on the other end.

More silence, and then a sharp ache in his chest when Kihyun says, voice timid, “I’m scared, Jooheonnie.”

“Hyung?” His heart lurches and he wills his feet to go faster. Left, right, left, right. Quicker.

“I’m scared that I’ll be like this for the rest of my life. Selfish. Do you think I can change?”

Jooheon knows the answer to that. It’s not that he can’t change; he doesn’t want to. And he probably knows that better than anyone else.

“You can if you try. Are you at home?” He’s running out of breath, but the fatigue, he thinks, comes from drawing up more excuses for Kihyun’s good.

He lets him wallow a little bit as he listens to his sniffles, his soft sobs, and then there’s a shuffle. “I’m home. I just broke up with Seungjae.”

Jooheon realises he thrives on _Schadenfreude_ , that Kihyun’s need to search for Jooheon during his miserable times is an indication that maybe he’s not an anonymous, faceless part in Kihyun’s life after all.

He almost grins at the thought of Seungjae and Kihyun breaking up, and fully breaks into a large smile when he realises that there’s no one here to look at him.

“He forced himself on me. It wasn’t great.”

Jooheon’s heart falls, many levels down, his smile wiped away from his face completely. He realises he doesn’t want Kihyun to feel horrible just to find significance in his existence in his life. Not this kind of horrible, anyhow.

“I’m coming. Wait for me.”

*****

Stray pieces of clothing are strewn over the doorway and Jooheon has to tiptoe away from them, a tight squeeze in his chest as he looks around.

“Hyung?” He calls out, and he’s returned with an echo of his own voice in the bare apartment.

He side steps away from more articles of clothing -- a belt, a pair of jeans, someone’s underwear -- and his eyes search eagerly.

Kihyun is curled up into a ball near the sofa, his silver fringe covering his eyes as he lets out soft whimpers. Jooheon is careful when approaching, like he’s trying not to scare off a tiny animal.

“Hyung?” he whispers, and Kihyun buries his face deeper in his own arms, fending off Jooheon’s advances. He’s completely naked -- not that it’s much of a new thing to Jooheon -- and Jooheon’s heart squeezes tightly before crouching in front of him.

There are no words when Jooheon wraps himself around Kihyun, pulling him against his chest, and the whimpers intensify, blowing up into erratic sobs and eventually consistent bawling. Jooheon is patient, just holding him in place.

There is intense heaving, Kihyun trembling under his touch, his skin fevered and thrumming with worry, anxiety, discomfort.

He finally calms down, his breathing more even, quiet, and Jooheon is strumming fingers on his back, humming a small tune, like they’ve just casually found themselves in each other’s arms.

Kihyun is pliant in his arms, tender to the touch, and Jooheon pulls away to find red rings around his pretty eyes. He wipes his tears away with his thumb and sighs. “Are you okay?”

He finds an answer in his lips, though not in the way he’d expected, as Kihyun lunges forward and crashes his lips with Jooheon’s, an eager whine stemming from his throat.

Jooheon has to hold him back by grabbing onto his shoulders, and Kihyun is an arm’s length away, fresh tears forming at the surface.

“What are you doing, hyung?” Jooheon’s heart is in his throat, and he knows exactly what he wants, but he doesn’t know if he should give it.

Kihyun makes grabby hands, and Jooheon’s heartbeat triples in speed as Kihyun leans in, destroying Jooheon’s supposed iron grip, and presses a hot kiss on his neck.

He feels the word more than hears it, mouthed against his pulse, throbbing with heat.

_You._

Jooheon knows there’s no going back, but Kihyun’s skin is translucent, fair, soft, warmth emanating off his whole body, and he smells like strawberries and cream.

Jooheon feels his knees give way, and he kneels in front of Kihyun, knowing that his walls have crumbled under Kihyun’s scrutiny, his pitiful eyes rolling with tears.

It’s a road of no return, and even though he’s tried so hard to resist Kihyun in the past, contented with jerking off to images of his smiling face, he’s right here, right now, right in front of him, like a piece of fresh meat before a hungry carnivore.

He knows any hopes of them establishing a relationship after this is obsolete, but as he stares at Kihyun, radiant, tears shining in his eyes, he wonders if those hopes had been hopes to start with.

If they weren’t going to end up as anything anyway, what did he have to lose?

So he doesn’t fight, not against Kihyun, because he can never win, and kisses him desperately, savours sweetness on his tongue, then a sharp metallic taste when he draws blood by biting onto his lower lip.

Kihyun’s body is a shrine that Jooheon prostrates himself before, his hands clasped together in devotion, his muted kisses along his scorched, fevered skin a prayer thrown haphazardly into space. Kihyun catches them all, body squirming under his tender touches, back arching in fervent desire.

He wonders if things between them would have been different in an alternate dimension where Kihyun is healthy company, and Jooheon capable of supporting the both of them.

But then he realises that he might not have loved Kihyun in that alternate dimension, and the troublesome and slightly fucked-up Kihyun is the Kihyun he’d fallen in love with.

*****

Partners come and go. Kihyun traipses between places, falling into slots and spaces where people leave out for him, and he finds delight in being pampered by strangers, praises from anonymous persons.

Jooheon acts less like a passer-by in this chapter of his story, and involves himself a little more as a minor character.

Their kisses are anxious, hurried, Kihyun peeling off Jooheon’s shirt as Jooheon lets him, falling into a pile on the ground. Their breaths are heavy between minimal proximity, and Jooheon kisses him again.

Why and how have they come to this?

Why has Jooheon reduced himself to a casual fuck, another unknown figure that Kihyun spends the night with, because he can no longer bear sleeping alone?

Why has he now become Kihyun’s shot of adrenaline, indulging him in his need for constant stimulation, his need for attention and craving for touches?

He stops asking questions and starts rocking his hips when Kihyun urges him to, sees Kihyun splayed out before him, a beautiful splash of silver on a bare canvas, his cheeks rosy red and his lips slightly apart.

He’s beautiful, no matter how many times he looks at him. He’s wonderful to the touch, no matter how many times he’s ravished him.

It’s just numbing to know that tomorrow it’ll be someone else hovering over Kihyun, watching him unravel as drool runs from the side of his mouth, his eyes rolled back into his skull.

Their orgasms come strong, shaking Jooheon to his core, and as Kihyun snuggles closer into his embrace, he tries to remember how they’ve gotten to where they are now, and he realises he cannot.

*****

“Sorry.”

Jooheon blinks, a little bewildered. “Sorry? What for?”

The cup of tea in his hands is hot, and he places his face closer to it, breathing in the warm aroma of darjeeling.

“You know. For being a nuisance. I think I rely on you a lot. Maybe a bit too much.”

“You know I don’t mind.” It’s been a while since they’ve sat down to have a talk, have a cup of something to drink, have anything that isn’t lustful bodies pressed against each other in want.

The exchange changes to silent glances, and Kihyun slides further into his armchair.  
  
“Hey Jooheon?” he asks, eyes focussed on swirls in the cup.

“Yeah hyung?” His fingers strum on the table gently.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Can’t promise unless I know what it is.” A noisy slurp.

“Can you promise to not fall in love with me? Ever?” He pauses, sips on his coffee. “I’m not a good person.”

Jooheon lets out a huff, confused, almost speechless. “What are you even talking about.” He returns to his tea, the bag whirling in the water.

It spreads out slowly, infiltrating the clear liquid, turning it a mild orange.

Kihyun laughs, humourless. His eyes are tired and the dark circles around them heavy. He looks lethargic. Jooheon remembers when he’d last made that observation and asked if work was too demanding, Kihyun chuckled and said that he was mostly tired out by life.

It didn’t seem like much before, but he does a double take now and realises Kihyun’s face is slimmer, his jaw and cheekbones razor-sharp, the fat from his cheeks all but gone. Maybe it wasn’t just work. Maybe it was something else.

Jooheon doesn’t have the time to beat himself up for it, because Kihyun is chortling again, zero mirth, and he feels his heart ache.

“I’m not a good person. Don’t like me. You’ll regret it.”

“Don’t you think that’s something up to me to decide?” His tone is defensive, but he can’t help it.

“I guess you could. But it’ll just end up in tragedy.” He purses his lips together in thought, and he stares at his sneakers. He should probably give them a wash.

“Is this because of what happened with Seungjae hyung?” The name still strikes a painful chord, and Kihyun winces.

“It’s nothing to do with the bastard.”

“Is it --” Jooheon is apprehensive, doesn’t know how to phrase it so that it doesn’t offend. “Is this because of your actions after what happened with Seungjae hyung?”

Kihyun laughs. “If you mean my sleeping around, my promiscuity, my being an absolute slut, I get what you mean, but it’s not because of that either.”

Jooheon wants to know the reason, but he doesn’t want to be too pushy. He sips on his tea, the heat burning his tongue. He frowns as he stares at the mug accusingly.

“It’s because I’m not a good person. I won’t be a good boyfriend. It’s always been this way; I take people for granted, use them when I need them, ignore them when they need me. It’s always me taking and never giving. No one should have to deal with that.” He takes a big gulp of his latte, ignoring the liquid scalding his throat. “But I don’t exactly want to change, either.” So he does know, Jooheon thinks.

“You know I’m happy with you being happy.”

“That’s what they all say at the beginning. The thing about being human is that we subconsciously grow expectations of people. Any person would like their feelings and efforts to be reciprocated. It’s only natural, and it’s nobody’s fault that that’s what a relationship encompasses. But maybe I’m just not capable of them. I’m too selfish, and I never learn.”

Kihyun falls silent, the air between them heavy, the pressure pressing a migraine into the side of Jooheon’s skull. Kihyun’s fingers are nimble, wrapped around the handle of his cup. He puts it to his lips and sips. Jooheon’s eyes follow where his fingers go.

“So just promise me that you’ll never fall in love with me.”

Jooheon frowns. “I can’t make that promise. How can I help something like that?”

“You can if you try. People’s feelings change. Their hearts change. Give anything some time, and it’ll all get better. It might not be gone completely, but if you stow it away for long enough, you’ll begin to forget.”

He puts the cup down, and Jooheon opts to stare at his own thighs.

“And I suppose forgetting that your feelings exist is a healthy way of coping with them?” he says, scowling, like a child throwing a tantrum.

“No one said it was good for you. But at least you reduce the number of people suffering from two to one. And I’d like to think that’s some decent trade-off, really.”

Was he always like this? It’s hard to imagine Kihyun had been someone like that, cynical and morbid. True, he was always a little sharp-tongued and sarcastic, but it never felt like this before. Jooheon curses Seungjae in his mind, assuming -- no, _knowing_ \-- that it had been because of him.

“What happens if you’ve already fallen?” Jooheon asks quietly, taking furtive glances toward Kihyun. “What if you’re drowning, and you can’t get out?”

Jooheon is willing him to break into a breathtaking smile and say that he’s joking. The smile in return still takes Jooheon’s breath away, but in a way that makes worry and anxiety crawl over him.

“You reach out, and someone’s hands will reach out to yours. You just have to grab onto them and not let go, and you can be on your merry way.”

Jooheon swallows. “What if I _want to_ drown?”

“Then you’re just being silly.”

“Is that really so bad?” He sounds desperate, but that’s only because he is.

“No. Not always. But it’s not for me. It’s okay for one person to be silly, but for two people to be fools, that’s just imprudent.”

Jooheon wants to tell him he’s already deep in the murky waters, that there’s a force at the bottom keeping him there, pulling him down, and he’s choking as the liquid fills his lungs and takes away every inhale and exhale. And yet he would still be happy to do that, that it brings him inexplicable happiness to pretend that he’s the protagonist of his own novel, that he would gladly die for love, for Kihyun. There’s something in the air that tells Jooheon that they’re done talking about the subject.

“I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Was there ever a moment in your life, ever, where you fell in love with me?”

A pause. There haven’t been many times he’s seen Kihyun wearing a look of surprise, but he thinks he sees it flash past his face for a split second. He returns quickly to stoicism, a preferred expression, and breathes evenly.

“It doesn’t matter if there was.”

“It matters to me.” Jooheon is acting like a child now, but there’s just something creeping over him, telling him that this might be the last time he’s going to see Kihyun, just from his words, with how he started the conversation with an apology.

He doesn’t want things to be like that. Even if they’ll end up as nothing, he doesn’t want to lose Kihyun.

“Trust me, you don’t want it to matter to you.”

“I do.”

“No matter what answer I give, it’s going to hurt you.”

“What if I want to be hurt?” The younger boy looks up, gauging Kihyun’s reaction, which truthfully, isn’t much of a reaction at all.

“What if I don’t want to hurt you? What if I’m tired of hurting the people around me?” His gaze is empty, his lashes long and sweeps along his dark eye circles with the touch of a feather. “What if you’re the last person on Earth I want to hurt?”

Jooheon feels, for the first time in his life, that Kihyun has looked at him properly, instead of through him. “Then you love me.”

Kihyun snorts, and the magic is broken. “You define love so loosely. I don’t want you to hurt, so I love you?”

“You don’t want yourself to hurt me, so you love me. That, or you’re actually a good person, and by that extension, I’m allowed to fall in love with you.”

“You’re setting me up for failure. There’s no way out with you.”

Jooheon closes the distance between them, his lips dangerously close to Kihyun’s heart-shaped ones, and his breath leaves warmth on Kihyun’s skin. He pushes his fringe away from his eyes and holds his hand in his loosely.

“Then don’t look for a way out. Just stay stuck in the damn labyrinth, and I’ll come find you. I’ve always found you, haven’t I?”

Kihyun blinks.

“It’s not going to end well, Jooheon. You’ve seen me go through this so many times. I’ve fucked up so many times. This is just me, and I can’t change. I won’t.”

“I don’t want you to.” Jooheon is honest, because if Kihyun was anyone but Kihyun, he wouldn’t have fallen, lurking in the deep side of the pool.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Kihyun asks, hand slipping out from Jooheon’s as he raises it, cups the younger boy’s face in his palm. It’s soft and full, and Kihyun feels a pang in his chest. He tries to ignore Jooheon’s question he’s left unanswered, but it keeps nudging him at the back of his mind.

_Have you ever fallen in love with me?_

Yes, he wants to say, yes, maybe more than just a few times, but maybe I keep falling in love with you because I’ve not let anything happen to that love, didn’t allow us to develop into something more that would inevitably allowed frustration and annoyance and disillusionment to fester.

Because I was happy to love you from afar, because you could live with that selfish bit of me, and I was happy to let you.

Jooheon’s smile is inviting, soothing, and Kihyun feels guilty immediately. He doesn’t deserve Jooheon. Shouldn’t have led him on, treated him like a fool, made use of his kindness and exploited it.

“Because I love you.” It’s quiet, almost inaudible, and Kihyun tries so hard to push down the sadness welling up in him.

“Maybe we need to start from square one. Y’know? Introduce each other again, go through all the steps again. Try something different. Maybe this time it won’t hurt so much if we just remember which way’s the right one.”

“But which way’s the right one?” Kihyun is on edge, almost breaking down in Jooheon’s arms, his gentle gaze making him tremble.

“I dunno. But we gotta try. From step one. Maybe we’ll find a better way to get to where we need to be.”

Kihyun smiles, and then he starts to cry, and Jooheon holds him, patient and quiet as always.

“We started on the wrong foot. Even on step one, we've resigned ourselves to this.”

Jooheon presses his lips against Kihyun’s scalp, and he exhales, the ends of his lips pulling up.

“Then we start from zero. It’ll be alright.”

(And Kihyun believes him.)

**Author's Note:**

> here to boost the jooki fic count tbh nothing else also what the hell am i thinking i have so many things to do and i wrote another oneshot????? just...... why. i'm sorry if this is crappy im angst
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated!


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